


Coming Back For You

by Chimerical_Acatalepsy



Series: Moving On [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotionally Hurt Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Hurt Stiles, Jackson Comes Back, Jackson Whittemore is Part of the Pack, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Protective Pack, Skype, even if he doesn't want to admit it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 22:44:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5309858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chimerical_Acatalepsy/pseuds/Chimerical_Acatalepsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson is in London, trying to forget about the hellhole that is Beacon Hills and the life he used to have. Or, he was until McCall and his little pack of assholes decide to Skype him. And suddenly he might just have a reason to stop running.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Back For You

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little something i wrote for my Tumblr once upon a time. It might not be very good, but I hope you enjoy it!  
> Josh

Its late and he’s trying to figure out what the hell is so great about football. He’s got a paper due for his Victorian Writers class that he hasn’t really started because Dickens rambles way too much for him to give a fuck. There’s a cup of tea steaming next to him, a little slice of lemon floating softly on the surface of the auburn liquid. Although he’s bored out of his mind, it’s probably one of the best moments that he’s had since moving to London. It’s a testament to the fact that he’s finally been able to escape the insane asylum back in Beacon Hills. He still tries not to think about it too often.

Or, well, he was trying not too until he got a Skype call. From Scott McCall. What…the fuck.

He considers letting it go. What’s it to him that McCall is trying to reach him this late at night? It’s not like he came with him to the airport to give him a proper sendoff. Hell, he and testicle two probably threw a party as soon as the plane had taken off from the tarmac. There hadn’t been any feelings lost that nobody had tried to contact him before this. He was going to let it go.

Except his brain kept reminding him that during the chaos of that final night, McCall had been there with him too. So he presses the button, just out of curiosity. If he doesn’t like what he hears, or it just turns out to be a big joke he can hit the END button and then go nurse something a little stronger than tea to stop the nightmares from invading his dreams.

The image is a little grainy. The room Scott’s in is too dark, and the camera isn’t really tilted the right direction for him to see a full picture of the person in front of him. He can only really make out their faces before the darkness swallows up their bodies. And yeah, bodies, because it’s not just Scott. Argent and fucking Lydia is there as well. He can already tell that it’s bad, whatever it is because of the lines around the edges of Scott’s eyes, like he’s been squinting for a long, long time and needs to take a nap. All three have dark circles under their eyes, and Lydia isn’t wearing mascara which has always been a sign that something big is off.

“What. I’m giving you three minutes to explain what the hell you could be calling me for before I hang up and block you from my profile.”

“Can you try not to be an asshole, Jackson?” Lydia starts in, leaning in closer to the camera, her face full of the disdain he had once worked so fucking hard to deflect. “I know it’s who you really are but we could all use a little break right now so if you could find it in—”

“Oh, fuck off prince—”

“Lydia.” Scott says. There’s not a particularly huge amount of venom in his voice when he says it, but Lydia automatically shuts up and sits back with a huff, twirling a strand of her hair instead as if that’ll stop her from sharing her opinion.

“You’ve got two minutes now.”

“Right.” Scott says. When speaks his shoulders hunch in and his voice drops and octave as the tired seeps into his voice. “Well, I don’t know how much you know about what’s been happening since you left…but Stiles needs help. And I…we…think you might be able to help.”

He laughs. “Stilinski? Nope. Sorry.” He’s shaking his head hard, a hollow grin on his face now even as his stomach twists into knots. “That asshole is your problem McCall. Your friend, your issue. Besides, there’s nothing I could do for Stiles.”

“Jackson?” Allison readjusts the computer screen, and her face fills his computer screen. “Listen, I know that you and Stiles have had your issues—”

“He hit me with his car!” He starts to argue but Allison’s voice is particularly hard now, and there’s a fierce sort of determination in her eyes. 

“But while you were gone, Stiles was possessed by a Japanese spirit-demon and he ended up killing a lot of people. For a while, we’ve been trying to help, but all that’s been happening is that Stiles is pulling into himself. Every time we try to talk to him, he just shuts down and tells us we can’t understand. And that’s when we realized that we did know someone could understand. You could. Because you do know what it’s like to lose control and do things that make you loathe yourself afterward.” 

He can honestly say he wasn’t expecting this at all. He has no response to this. It’s horrible, what has been happening with Stiles. But a part of him, a selfish part of him, is bursting with relief because finally someone understands everything.

“I…uh…well.” He coughs. “I uh, I guess I could….well what the hell do you want me to do about it?”

Scott’s back in the frame now. And dammit he’s got those fucking puppy dog eyes going full blast and damn how did that kid learn to do it because even thousands of miles away over a grainy camera it still works like a champ. “Maybe you can Skype with him? Or. Or just text him? He might not want to talk. Stiles might be really, really mad that we even went to you with this. But I think that at least if you can extend the offer it might be what he needs to break out of this.”

So, a lot must have happened since he’s left because Scott actually sounds like an adult who knows things now instead of a clueless dumbass. But he’s not right. Talking about that. You can’t survive a conversation like that over the phone or on Skype. It’s too impersonal.

He wants to say of course. He wants to say that it’ll work that he’ promises he’ll talk to Stiles as soon as the sun is rising. Instead, all he can force out is a “we’ll see” before hanging up on them. If Lydia beams at him from the camera before he’s able to end the call, he ignores it. If he starts looking up flights back to Beacon Hills almost immediately he’ll never tell anyone.

Stiles needs him.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is part one in a series of undetermined length. I'll be popping in to add on to it every once in a while. Thank you so much for reading! How about you leave a little something before you go? ;)


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